Made of Stone
by Little.Miss.Sarcastic-Tomboy
Summary: At seventeen, Cammie Morgan is a part of the world's youngest theif crew. When her crew clashes with another lead by a boy with bright green eyes, Cam unlocks a 300 year old mystery that if she doesn't solve, it means the end of her crew, and her life.


**Hey ya'll this is for the Originality Challenge, which basically states you have to be as original as possible. Tell me what ya'll think. I don't know exactly what I'm gonna do with this story, so expect infrequent updates, as usual. **

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><p><em><strong>~Smile like you've never cried,<strong>_

_**Fight like you've never lost,**_

_**Love like you've never been hurt,**_

_**Live like you'll die tomorrow~**_

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><p><strong><em>Rome, Italy<em>**

**_March 6, 2100 Hours._**

The room was large, to say the least. The ceiling was painted in the standard renaissance style, with naked babies littering the marble ceiling, a thin silk sheet covering the most intimate parts of the chubby little angels. The security guard slid his flashlight across the large room, wanting to get out of the strange place as soon as possible. The statues of nearly naked women disturbed him, their cold, blank eyes following his every move. He turned away from the life like pieces of art, already imagining the warm, soft armchair next to the fireplace at his house. He could just taste those chocolate chip cookies his wife use to make.

'_Too bad we're divorced' _he thought, rubbing his large stomach and clicking off the flashlight. He turned and just when he was about to leave he heard a small crash. He flicked on the light, scanning the room, but decided nothing was there, and proceeded to lock the doors in haste to get home.

"Nice going Bex, you almost gave us away." A light, melodic voice filled the almost empty room, and a rope slithered down from the skylight that was _supposedly_ charged with seventy volts of electricity. Although, the janitor was tired of finding dead birds so he turned it off most of the month. There is no need to make his job any harder, and besides, who in their right mind would steal from the Vatican anyway?

Apparently Cameron Morgan and Rebecca Baxter were not in their right minds.

A soft thud followed by the click of heels sounded on the expensive granite floors that were actually not authentic, but no one was suppose to know that, right?

Cammie slid the tool free from her belt, pulling the painting off the wall.

"I don't understand what the big fuss about this is, it's actually pretty ugly. Look at the face; it's like a disfigured old person with skin cancer and a really bad case of acne." Bex observed vulgarly, twisting her head to line up with the man's agonized gaze.

"It doesn't matter. _Saint Jerome in the Wilderness_ will bring more money than that Monet from Paris." The British girl's eyes widen at the brunet's nonchalant words, and backed away from the expensive painting she was sure she would damage in some way. The painting slipped into the bag easily and Cammie tugged on the rope to make sure it was still secure. She began to climb with Bex and the girls slipped onto the ceiling. Cammie unknotted the silk scarf around her neck and slipped it through the handlebars of the skylight. She tugged the opening closed and turned to her (Literal) partner-in-crime.

"I say that was pretty successful." Bex said smugly. It was almost like fate was listening and decided to punish them. The lasers they thought they had disabled came back on. Cammie cursed loudly, strapping the bag on her back as Bex coiled the rope. Cammie took a deep breath and looked desperately for a way out. She couldn't see any way to cartwheel her way through the bands of red, and instead looked up. She grinned suddenly, snatching the rope from a miffed Rebecca. She threw it up towards the flagpole on the other side of the street and pulled it tight.

"Your insane." Bex said once figuring out her plan. "It was nice knowing you."

"Remember the last time you doubted me? In France with that Picasso. You still owe me a 20 for that."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll never get it if you're dead!" Bex muttered, watching her best friend of ten years.

"I don't see you coming up with any other ideas." Cammie sing-songed and jumped up to hook the rope on the pole coming out of the glass roof. She lifted herself up onto the rope, teetering dangerously before steadying herself. "And besides, I spent a year as a tightrope walker in India, remember? I got this." She took a deep breath and started walking over the busy traffic.

She was about halfway over the rope when she wobbled. Cammie let out a scream as she tumbled off. She could hear Bex's cries from behind her and at the last minute reached her hand out to catch herself. She stifled a sob as her shoulder popped out of its socket and started inching her way over to the other rooftop. When she finally got there she could see Bex looking like someone almost ran over her puppy.

"Told you." Cammie said simply, and popped her shoulder back into place, a single tear making its way down her cheek. She climbed into the silent helicopter, and flew over, tossing down the rope. When Bex slid into the copilot's seat was when she let out a laugh.

"We did it."

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><p><em>~Invisible tears are the hardest to wipe away~<em>

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><p>"You did what?" A loud baritone voice asked, the sound carrying across hotel room.<p>

"I think you heard me, don't tell me your hearing is going already." Cammie said sarcastically, crossing her bandaged arms. Bex watched the exchange worriedly. No one crossed Joe Solomon.

"How could you? You could have gotten killed!" His brown eyes met her unique grey eyes, and he was reminded so much of her mother, his sister-in-law. His brother, her father, tried taming this side of her, obviously unsuccessful.

"Well I'm here now, and so is Bex and this stupid painting. I can't take it back, so just let it go." She searched his impassive face and threw her hands up. Sometimes she just got sick of his protectiveness and had to get away. This was one of those times.

"That's it. I'm going to Macey's. Come one Bex." She grabbed her best friend and stalked off.

"Macey is in London!" Her uncle Joe called after her, and she didn't look back.

"Then we're going to England. Don't wait up." She grabbed one of Joe's credit cards and climbed the ladder up to the helipad.

"Cam, I really don't want to spend 2 and a half hours in a helicopter." Bex whined and Cammie grinned.

"Keep up your moaning and you'll start sounding like the bitch herself." Cammie said lightheartedly. She opened the door with a mock bow and Bex groaned.

_~Style is knowing who you are, _

_What you are, _

_And not giving a damn~_

"In the name of all that is Gucci what the hell do you want?" Macey Mchenry wasn't the biggest morning person. She stood there is her silk Victoria Secret custom made pajamas and sleep mask shoved on the top of her head.

"Is that any way to treat your best friends?" Cammie tutted, handing her a Starbucks cup while Macey sulked.

"What is this?" Macey asked, sniffing it suspiciously as if Cammie would poison her with generic brand coffee.

"13 shot venti soy hazelnut vanilla cinnamon white mocha with extra white mocha and caramel. The most expensive thing on the menu and your favorite, duh. I wouldn't give _The _Macey Mchenry anything less." Cammie said mockingly, examining the hotel room before studying Macey's face and darting eyes. "What's his name?"

Bex looked at her confused before she rolled her eyes. Cammie looked around and opened the closet door, fishing out a sheepish looking Italian guy by his collar. He waved awkwardly.

"Cammie, Bex, this is Marcos." Macey said rubbing the back of her neck. "Marcos, meet my insane best friends that should be in Italy.

"_Ciao, ti dispiace_?" Cammie asked in Italian. He nodded, walking to Macey and kissing her hand.

"_Fino a quando ci incontreremo di nuovo_." He said suavely, before walking out of the hotel room.

"What did you say?" Bex asked.

"I asked him if he minded and he said 'Until we meet again'." Cammie said, flopping on the white couch. Macey had already fixed her clothes and sat gracefully across from her friends.

"Any reason why you felt the need to burst in my hotel room at six in the morning?" Bex scoffed.

"Like you weren't awake anyway."

"I am only sixteen, I need my beauty sleep." She claimed before a knock on the door interrupted the conversation. She ripped the door open to find Cammie's aunt on the other side.

"When did my room become so popular?" Macey asked dryly before Abby rolled her eyes. She entered the room, her leather boots squeaking on the floor. She turned to the girls, and cocked a hip.

"I need you to steal something."

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><p><strong>What do ya'll think? <strong>


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